The Fire
by MoonlitePage
Summary: Everything went so wrong so quickly and there wasn't a thing Arthur could do to stop it. May be continued in the future. Minimal/no major series spoilers. pre-established Merthur good mordred bad uther pain angst romance love soulmate two sides of a coin
1. Chapter 1

QUICK INTRO! PLEASE READ!

This story started as the conclusion to another one but I liked it better as a stand alone story. Let me know if anyone would be interested in me continuing or sharing a prequel or whatever. MORE IMPORTANTLY: this story does have some mild triggers, but they are essentially spoilers and knowing in advance will affect the experience. So, all triggers will be at the bottom of this chapter and if you don't have any please just skip to the next chapter and start reading. Happy reading.

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TRIGGERS BELOW!

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-Mentions of torture/the aftermath

-character death

-grief

To anyone concerned, ENDING SPOILER BELOW!

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ENDING SPOILER BELOW!

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There is a happy ending.


	2. Chapter 2

It was early morning, only a hour or so before sunrise, when they brought Merlin back. Arthur clung to the cell door as the guards half-carried half-dragged the warlock to the cell opposite, gripping the bars so tight his knuckles were white. They unceremoniously dumped him inside and slammed the door as they exited. The clang hurt Arthur's ears, but also made Merlin stir where he lay on the ground.

Arthur's voice caught in his throat, but someone else spoke for him. "Merlin?" Gwaine, who was with Lancelot and Mordred in the cell next to Arthur's, sounded hesitant, concerned, and Arthur couldn't blame him. The prince couldn't see his warlock's face, but Merlin's bare back was a mess of bruises and bloody whip marks.

Gwaine didn't receive much of a response aside from a pained whine that Arthur hoped he had only imagined and the prince couldn't take waiting any longer. "Merlin? Please say something." He insisted.

This time Merlin shifted and slowly, painfully slowly, he sat up. Arthur watched him in silence, hating that he couldn't even help the man who had come to mean everything to him and plotting painful deaths for those who had hurt him. After what felt like an eternity Merlin was seated against the stone wall. Arthur could only imagine it didn't feel good on his back. "Merlin." This time the name was more of a plea and Arthur got a flicker of a smile on his warlock's face.

"I'm alright." He said softly. Finally he twisted his head to look at Arthur and offered the prince a proper smile. Arthur tried to return it, but failed as he took in the bruises and cuts on Merlin's face and torso. Even seeing the marks wasn't as painful as the simple knowledge that they had _tortured_ him. Tortured his Merlin, who had a kinder heart and gentler soul than anyone Arthur knew. "Hey, _sire_, I'm alright." Merlin repeated, stronger this time. Soothing in a way only Merlin could pull off.

It was a front. All the knights could hear how much he was hurting. But no one was willing to call him out on it, least of all Arthur. "Damn him. Damn Uther and all his ridiculous hatred. He won't get away with this." Arthur practically growled and immediately heard an agreement from the knights. They were all angry because no one, least of all Merlin, deserved to go through what he had.

"Oh Arthur." The way Merlin sighed his name, with such fondness, Arthur didn't know how anyone could believe the warlock was trying to hurt him. But still he listened as Merlin continued speaking. "You shouldn't hate him for this. Pity him, maybe. But don't hate him. That's what led to this; hatred. Don't let it consume you like it did him, okay? Can you promise me that?" Arthur couldn't deny Merlin anything, not right now, no matter how much it felt like Merlin was saying a final goodbye and ripping his heart out in the process. So he nodded.

"Merlin, please, go. Use your magic and flee. Go somewhere safe until I can repeal the ban then you can come home when it's safe. Please." Arthur pleaded. He didn't realize how much someone shaking their head could hurt until Merlin did then and the prince sank to his knees. He wished he could reach out and hold the warlock, but of course the guards had taken his keys. Still, he pressed himself close to the bars, trying to get closer by even an inch.

"I can't. I… I may have gone, if I could, but this…" He raised his arms slightly, showing off the cuff he was wearing. It was old and metal, locking Merlin's forearms together from elbow to wrist, and it was covered in faint carvings.

To their surprise Mordred hissed at it like some kind of cat. "How dare they use an abomination like that?" He spat. Even from a cell over Arthur could feel his anger coming off in waves.

"Mordred?" Leon questioned from the cell next to Merlin's. Percival and Elyon shared the cell with him and Arthur both envied and was grateful they couldn't see Merlin in his current state. It would forever haunt Arthur.

"It's an old thing, from even before Uther's purge. They would be used only on the worst of criminal sorcerers, the ones who would wipe out or torture entire villages just for fun. It was designed to hurt the wearer constantly, with sharp pieces on the inside that dig into your skin and cut you. Worse, it drains and traps your magic through the blood it costs you to wear, rending you completely unable to cast. Any attempt is said to feel like lightning through your veins." Mordred explained, his tone biting and his hatred obvious.

Arthur hatred it too, for hurting Merlin, but even more so because it meant Merlin couldn't escape. "Arthur, come on, come back. I'm alright. It's not so bad as Mordred makes it sound." Arthur slowly opened his eyes, drawn from his thoughts by Merlin's soothing tone. Arthur felt like he'd been punched when he realized this would likely be the last night he ever heard that voice.

"Merlin…" Arthur wasn't sure what he was pleading for, but he was pleading. He wanted something, anything, to happen that could stop or even just delay the guards returning. He'd even take Morgana attacking. God, he would even give the throne to her it if meant he didn't have to say goodbye.

"I know, Arthur. I know. I'm sorry for leaving so soon." Merlin said softly. He was looking at the ceiling, sitting very still, but Arthur didn't need to see his face to know how hard the warlock was trying to keep it together. He could hear it in Merlin's voice. "Promise me you'll all look after each other?"

"Of course." Lancelot agreed immediately and Merlin smiled. It was genuine this time, warm, and at peace, as he nodded.

"Thank you." Merlin spoke softly and the dungeon fell into silence. There was only the sounds of them breathing and there was almost a palpable sensation in the air, something tying them all together. Arthur just knew that he wasn't the only one who would be devastated by Merlin leaving.

The moment of companionship was broken by the sounds of footsteps. The sounds of several guards coming towards them. Arthur clenched his teeth then stood, gripping the bars. The other knights stood as well just as the guards came into sight. One or two eyed them suspiciously, all crowded around the doors as they were, but after determining there wasn't a genuine threat they focused on Merlin.

The door mockingly didn't creak as it opened and two of the guards yanked Merlin to his feet. The warlock let out a pained whimper but remained standing mostly by his own strength as one of the guards tugged him from the cell. Merlin stumbled at the action then his eyes met Arthur's. He abruptly pulled free of the guard's grip and pressed himself against Arthur's door. The prince immediately reached through the bars on either side of Merlin's hands and cradled his head. They both leaned forward until their foreheads were pressed together. "Merlin." Arthur whispered and he put everything he had into that one word.

His warlock smiled as he fought back tears. He wasn't entirely successful as a few spilled down his cheeks. As Arthur reached to wipe them away Merlin tugged the handkerchief around his neck free and offered it to Arthur. The prince took it and held it to his own lips briefly before he used it to wipe away some of the blood under Merlin's nose. The action got him a sad smile.

"I love you." Merlin whispered before he let go of the bars and stepped back. He allowed the guards to grab him again and that as when Arthur realized they hadn't stopped them from saying goodbye. And the guards that led him away were being noticeably more gentler than before.

They had just reached the stairs when Arthur shouted "I love you!" He couldn't care about his pride or reputation. He didn't care what the knights or guards would think. Not when he was about to lose the man who made him whole. Merlin gave him one last genuine smile, and Arthur burned the sight into his memory, before he was gone.

Silence fell once again and this time it persisted. All of them were waiting for and dreading a sign of when it started. When the fire was lite. What that would be Arthur didn't know, wasn't sure he wanted to consider, and he would never admit to anyone how his hands shook around the precious handkerchief Merlin had given him. His parting gift. They waited a long time. A servant brought them food, but no one touched it. The sun was just shy of midway when Arthur felt it.

The prince hadn't realized it was still there despite the cuffs. A thin layer of warmth that covered his skin. The magical armor Merlin had given him. He didn't realize it was still there until it was suddenly gone. The dungeon air was like ice water assaulting his skin and Arthur gasped without realizing he had made a sound. He didn't even hear the knights concern as his legs gave out. He didn't feel the stone floor as his knees collided with it. His entire world shrunk to the missing warmth on his skin and the handkerchief in his hands.

How long he sat in that state Arthur had no idea. But it was Gaius's voice that pulled him from it. Slowly the prince realized he was lying on his back and forced his eyes open. "Gaius." Arthur groaned and his eyes darted around, searching for him.

"Yes, sire?" The elderly man was kneeling next to him and gently took his hand. Arthur both hated and was desperate for the kindness he offered. He struggled to say anything at all for a few moments, haunted by the ghost of Merlin in Gaius's eyes. Arthur had never noticed how alike the two were until that moment.

"I'm sorry." Arthur whispered and for a moment Gaius's mask broke, revealing how badly the physician was hurting too. Then the mask was back and Gaius gently, silently patted Arthur's hand. There were no words of comfort either could offer the other.

The moment was broken in the worst possible way. "A king never apologizes, Arthur, I thought I taught you that. Now…" Arthur forced himself to sit up and look at the man he had one called father. Called king. Now he understood Morgana's desire better than ever. Uther was no proper king and it was only Merlin's words echoing in his head that stopped Arthur from grabbing his father's sword and running him through with it right there.

"Since you are all free from that sorcerer's control you are free to leave the dungeon." Uther declared. He leveled a cold eye at Arthur. "I expect to see you at my table for the midday meal." He added.

For a moment Arthur's anger resurfaced, but then he had another thought. Of the pyre and Merlin's body and what the guards would do to it if he didn't get it first. "Yes, father." Arthur replied calmly and Uther studied him for a moment before he tossed Arthur's keys to him and left, apparently satisfied.

Arthur stood and opened the other cells containing the knights. "Arthur." Leon was the first to speak to him. The word was a concerned question, confused. Until Arthur meet his eyes. Leon could barely hold his gaze for more than a second before he dropped his eyes. "I will follow your lead, sire." He promised softly and Arthur nodded.

"Good. Then come with me."


	3. Chapter 3

The courtyard was far from empty and they drew a lot of eyes as they entered. Some were curious, some were full of pity, and one or two even held anger (whether that was because he had allowed Merlin to die or because he hadn't turned in his manservant sooner Arthur could only guess). Arthur ignored them all. The remains of the pyre were obvious; a hip high pile of charred wood and ash that stood out against the cobblestone. Arthur didn't hesitate.

He climbed on top, uncaring about the soot that immediately clung to his clothes. "Sire!" Several voices called to him, including Leon and Lancelot, but he barely spared the time to wave them off. Some of the servants stuck around, obviously concerned for his mental state, but Arthur had found what he was looking for.

Merlin's body was surprisingly all still there in one piece, though his clothes were gone and his skin was unrecognizably charred save parts of his face and hair. Arthur tried not to look too closely at the rest of the warlock's body, choosing to focus on his face instead as he scooped him up. For ages, even before they had discovered their shared feelings, Arthur had imagined carrying Merlin. More times than he was willing to admit. Happy daydreams about throwing the warlock over his shoulder during training to Merlin's very vocal but always laughing disagreement or to scoop the warlock up like a newlywed bride and carry him to bed when they both stayed up too late working. Never once had he imagined it would be like this.

Lancelot took one look at the body in his arms and turned away, one hand over his mouth and his eyes squeezed shut. Gwaine rubbed his back absentmindedly, but the knight stubbornly refused to turn away. Forcing himself to look as punishment for failing, maybe. When Arthur jumped down from the pile of ashes Leon stepped forward, laying his cape on the ground. Arthur gently set Merlin's body on it, but once the weight was gone he couldn't find the strength to stand back up.

Lancelot knelt opposite the prince and Gwaine next to his friend. Arthur only vaguely noticed as the other knights joined them, forming a protective half circle around Merlin's body and subsequently Arthur. He stayed like that for a minute that lasted an eternity. Then, slowly, the prince reached out and gently touched Merlin's cheek. His pale skin, even untouched by the flames, was still warm from the fire and suddenly it was too much. Too real.

Arthur screamed, unaware and uncaring that his anguished cry carried through the courtyard. Through the castle windows and down the halls, to the servants and nobles alike. Through the gate to the lower town and those residing there. To the guards and birds high on the castle walls. He let his tears fall as he stroked Merlin's cheeks, tracing his cheekbones the way he had planned to do once they finally had a moment alone. He kissed Merlin's forehead in the same place they had been touching only hours ago. And finally he placed a gentle kiss on Merlin's lips.

He hovered above the warlock's body, close enough he would have felt Merlin's breath on his lips if there had still been breath to feel. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He whispered, with only the corpse to hear his apology. The world grew strangely silent around him, as if everything from the people to the animals to the very wind were silently mourning the loss of Merlin and Arthur didn't doubt it was true. His wonderful selfless warlock that everyone and everything couldn't help loving.

Just as the prince was about to move back, to interrupt the silence because the world was still moving and he had a promise to keep, he felt it. Breath, coming from Merlin's lungs. Convinced he had imagined it but unwilling to take the chance he hadn't, Arthur leaned closer and held his own breath. After an eternity-long second, just long enough he was starting to doubt his sanity because of course corpses didn't breathe, he felt it again.

The world snapped back into motion. Sights and sounds and smells assaulted him painfully quickly. But none of it mattered because now he could see Merlin's chest moving. His breaths were shallow, nearly invisible, and Arthur still wasn't totally convinced this wasn't all a hallucination conjured by his mourning brain. But he wasn't willing to take the chance.

Several of the knights made noises of surprise when he suddenly moved, scooping Merlin up still wrapped in Leon's cape and started walking. Thankfully no one asked any questions as he carried Merlin to Gaius's room. Without a word Gwaine held the door for him and several of the knights, Gwaine, Lancelot, and Mordred, followed him. The others would take up posts outside, he was sure.

Gaius was sitting at his table, his distress as obvious as the tears on his face, and a blank open scroll in front of him. Still, the physician stood at their entrance and started to say something, only to take one look at the body in Arthur's arms and lose his voice. It was a long couple of seconds before Gaius spoke. "Set him here." The words were breathless and soft, so full of pain it was hard to hear, but Arthur knelt next to the gestured bed (the same, he realized, that Merlin had laid on when dying from the morteus flower) and carefully set the warlock down.

He made sure to keep Leon's cape wrapped around Merlin's body. He didn't want Gaius to have to see the burns if he didn't need to. Gaius sat on the bed next to the warlock and he made a pained noise. "My poor boy." He whispered as he ran a gentle but quivering hand through Merlin's hair. "Thank you for bringing him back to me." He added softly.

Arthur could only nod. He reached out and gently ran his fingers down Merlin's cheek. The warlock was less pale now and Arthur could feel his breath more powerfully on his fingers as they hovered near Merlin's nose. He could feel Gaius watching him then the physician placed his fingers next to Arthur's. The prince watched the elderly man's face and after a moment, after he felt Merlin's breath once again, Gaius's expression became hopefully. It morphed quickly into something unreadable as the physician pressed two fingers against a spot on Merlin's neck.

After a few seconds he gasped, the sound mixed with a laugh and a ghost of a smile on his lips. "How?" He whispered but Arthur shook his head.

"I don't know. But my father cannot find out." Arthur said and Gaius nodded.

"Wait, what can't your father find out?" Gwaine interrupted as he looked between them suspiciously.

Mordred spoke before Arthur could and his tone was awed, almost reverent. "He is Emerys." Mordred said as if it explained everything. And for Arthur and Gaius it did. Gwaine didn't look quite so sure. "Emerys is immortal. Undying." Mordred continued as he stumbled forward, dropping to his knees beside the bed. "Long live Emerys." Mordred whispered reverently. Had he said that to anyone else or at any other time Arthur might have been worried, but now? He was just grateful Merlin was alive.

But it left one very serious dilemma. Slowly Arthur stood, pausing only long enough to place a gentle kiss on Merlin's forehead. "I have to see my father." He declared as he started walking. Lancelot caught his arm as he walked past.

"Sire, please, don't do anything rash." He insisted but Arthur returned his concern with a cocky smile.

"I'm not." He promised, and he meant it, before he moved towards the door. He paused and pulled the keys from his pocket so they could free Merlin from the cuffs, which he tossed to Lancelot, before adding, "I want you three to stay here. Protect him and Gaius, in whatever way you have to." He emphasized the line with a look to Mordred, whose smile quickly turned from reverent and relieved to wolf-like.

"Yes, sire." The rooms occupants answered and Arthur left without looking at Merlin. His warlock's natural kindness would only weaken his resolve and this was something he had to do.

The door closed behind him with a click before he spoke again. "You three, with me." Arthur ordered. Leon, Percival, and Elyon were quick to follow him as he walked down the hall.

"Sire, may I ask what you are planning?" Leon questioned and Arthur gave him the same cocky smile he had given Lancelot.

"Just an afternoon duel."


	4. Chapter 4

Uther was annoyed. The stupid sorcerer hadn't given up anything despite Uther having spent the whole night personally interrogating him; not why he was in Camelot, not what he had done to Uther's son and his knights, not where other magic users were. Then he had taken all morning to actually die. And now Uther was getting concerned reports from a number of individuals, nobles and servants alike, that they had heard a disturbing sound like someone crying out in anguish and several had been convinced that it was the ghost of the sorcerer come to haunt them.

At least that mystery had been quickly figured out as a servant reported the sound had come from none other than his son, as she had witnessed a strange scene in the courtyard in person. Just another on the increasingly long list of things he had to talk to Arthur about during their lunch. Uther sat up as the door was suddenly thrown open. Arthur entered, followed by three of his knights, and for a moment Uther could only stare at his offspring.

Arthur looked almost like he had come from a battle. There was ash on his clothes and in his hair, though the prince's armor was clean. Cutting through the soot on his cheeks were tear tracks and there was a fire in his eyes that Uther had never seen before. "Arthur. I don't think you need your knights here for a simple lunch." Uther greeted cautiously.

He got no reply as Arthur studied him, looking him over from head to toe with a blank expression. "The sorcerer is dead. Have you been freed from your enchantment?" Uther questioned. He was a bit disturbed at Arthur's unusual behavior and could think of no other reason for his son to be acting so strangely.

To his surprise, and confusion, his question got a smile. It was the same Arthur had given him many times in the past, but something about this one felt wrong. Fake. "Yes, I think I finally have." He answered as he began walking, one step at a time towards the throne where Uther sat. "I've been freed from _your_ enchantment." He added with such malice Uther almost didn't even register the words.

Several people, guards and servants around the room, gasped at Arthur's declaration, but the prince wasn't done speaking. "You haven't cast any actual spell against me, that's true, but I was under your control nonetheless. God, how many innocent men, women, and children have you put to death in your reign simply for having magic? And for far too many I have stood by and done nothing. No more." Arthur drew his sword and Uther leapt up.

"Guards, detain him." Uther ordered. Several of his guards rushed forward to comply and were met with Arthur's knights. The scuffle, which Arthur did not even pause to listen to, was embarrassingly quick especially since some of his guards were apparently hesitant to make a stand against Arthur.

Uther thoughts were rapid as he realized what was happening. As if Arthur knew his thoughts his smile turned almost predatory. "Step down, Uther. Your reign is done." Arthur ordered. Uther drew his sword and Arthur scoffed. "Don't mistake my offer for kindness. You executed the man that meant everything to me this morning and it is only because he insisted I not give into the hate that destroyed you that I haven't already run you through."

"You would kill me?" Uther could only recall feeling numb and betrayed like this once before, when Morgana had said similarly biting words before attempting to kill him. The frightening thought was that he didn't doubt that Arthur, as he was now, would do it.

"I would, though I would prefer this not end in that kind of bloodshed. Regardless of everything you've done you are still my father and I don't need your blood on my hands. Let alone as the way to start my reign." Arthur admitted.

Uther scoffed. "You think a king would so easily give up his throne? I thought I taught you better than to think that." It was a bit of a farce, his confidence, and he expected Arthur to at least falter. Instead the prince laughed.

"Yes, you taught me that a king is meant to be stubborn. Determined. Hard. Unmerciful. Unrelenting. And I truly believed that was the way a king was meant to be. It was Merlin showed me different. Taught me that compassion can be far more powerful than fear and that magic is so much more than just evil." Arthur was just out of swords reach and there he stopped. "I'll give you one more chance, Uther. Step down as king." Arthur ordered.

"Or what? You'll kill me right here? You've already played your hand. You don't really want to." Uther challenged and Arthur suddenly withdrew his sword. For a moment Uther was confused, and just the tiniest bit hopeful that this would end here. Then Arthur threw his gauntlet down at Uther's feet.

"I challenge you, King Uther Pendragon, as your rightful and sole heir, to a duel for the throne of Camelot." Arthur declared. Uther studied Arthur's face, taking in details he had not noticed before. His son was no longer a boy; he was a man. A man with his own convictions and scars. He had seen heartbreak and been through battles Uther had not seen. This was not a child before him, willing to follow his orders, but a king in his own right.

Uther refused to let his revelation show as he grabbed Arthur's gauntlet. "I accept your challenge and those here stand as witnesses of the challenge issued and accepted. The duel will occur in three hours." He decided, hoping the quick timeline might surprise Arthur, but the prince only nodded his agreement.

Arthur turned and began walking away only to pause and look at Uther again. His expression was neutral as he studied the king for a long moment. "Merlin was right. I don't hate you. I pity you." Arthur said before he turned and left the room, his knights following close.

The door slammed shut behind them and Uther dropped onto his throne, feeling very much as if he had just survived a storm. But as he subtly considered those in the room, the servants and guards who had witnessed everything, most of whom had yet to return to their positions or jobs and were just as shocked as he was, he realized something. He may have survived the first wave, but the storm was far from over.


	5. Chapter 5

Arthur stopped briefly at Gaius's to collect Merlin before he carried the warlock up to his own room. After carefully settling a cleaned and bandaged Merlin on his bed he stood and observed the room's other occupants. His Round Table, with the exception of Gwen, were all there. The knights looked battle ready, willing to fight whatever challenge Arthur deemed necessary. Gaius hovered near his bed, adjusting the bandages on Merlin's otherwise naked body before covering the warlock with a blanket.

"Arthur." Lancelot's voice brought his attention from his bed and the prince waited for the knight to continue. "What's going to happen?"

The prince took a breath and stood up straight. "I have challenged Uther to a duel for the throne, to take place this afternoon. I am confident and most of you will be at the arena, however I want two you of you to remain here, with Merlin. So that if I lose you can get him out of Camelot before Uther discovers him." Arthur took in the concerned looks on his knights faces and smiled.

"He won't kill me. He wouldn't dare. His only other blood heir is Morgana and he is far too old to father any more children. The knights are loyal to me and wouldn't accept a chosen proxy, even one chosen by him. And he knows all this. He won't risk killing me and that gives me the advantage. But that doesn't mean it will be an easy fight." Arthur warned.

"Be careful, sire. Merlin wouldn't forgive us if we let something happen to you." Leon reminded and Arthur nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. He could imagine lecture and even the tone of voice Merlin would have as he told off the knights.

"With that in mind I wish to come to the arena with you, sire. I am the only one among the knights who can cast spells and defend you against any magical attacks. I doubt Uther would attempt such a thing, but another might." Mordred said.

Arthur studied him for a moment. "Merlin could use that protection more." Arthur began but paused as Mordred shook his head.

"Even when like this, or perhaps I should say especially like this, Emerys is better protected against spells than anyone. His magic will protect and heal him far better than I ever could." Mordred corrected and Arthur conceded the point with a tip of his head.

"I'll remain here." Leon said and Arthur smiled at him, grateful.

"I will stay. I can carry him easier than any of you." Percival said and Arthur nodded.

"Thank you both. The rest of you will be with me at the duel." Arthur repeated.

"Yes, sire." was the answer he got from the knights.

Arthur turned to Gaius, who was watching them with a proud expression on his face. "I will stay here as well, sire. Merlin's magic may be healing him, and quickly, but I don't want to risk an infection with so much of his body burnt." Gaius explained.

"Alright. Thank you, Gaius." Arthur said and the physician nodded with a smile.

"Now, sire, I would suggest you wash up before your duel. It wouldn't do to be crowned king with ash in your hair and soot on your clothes." Gaius reminded with a smile and Arthur looked down. He shifted his feet, looking at the gray remnants on his boots and pant legs that he was only just noticing.

"No. I suppose it wouldn't." He agreed.

The next two hours passed quickly. Some of the knights checked his armor over, to make sure it wasn't damaged, and tended to his sword as he bathed. Once he was clean and dressed they shoved him down at the table and made him eat. They spent the meal discussing tactics and with less than an hour before the duel they left to get ready themselves. Even Percival and Leon, though they weren't going to be at the duel, and Gaius to fetch some extra supplies he thought he may need. Arthur was grateful for the moment alone with his warlock.

Arthur settled onto the bed near Merlin's head and gently ran his fingers down Merlin's cheek. With every hour that passed he looked better, healthier, and more alive. When Arthur finally risked a glance under the bandages on Merlin's chest he was surprised to see that not only were the burns well on their way to being healed, but so were the slashes from being tortured and even his older scars seemed be fading away.

The only thing that wasn't fixing itself was his hair and as Arthur ran his fingers through it he couldn't help but chuckle. Merlin was going to be very upset at his haircut once he woke up; Arthur had never seen a man willing to pitch a fit over something like that like Merlin was (though the warlock would be the first to point out that Arthur was the same way about his own hair). Arthur paused and let out a little breath as it finally started to sink in. Merlin was going to be fine. He was alive. He was healing. He was going to be able to stay by Arthur's side for many years to come. And Arthur was eager for it.

The thought that tempered his excitement was the realization that he had to win the duel or Merlin would not be safe, not until Uther died. If Uther had a magic user captive that he couldn't kill… the thought was chilling and it brought to the surface one of Merlin's memories. Of Killgarah, trapped alone for decades in the dark cavern under the castle. It hurt to think of Merlin being treated in a similar or, as was more likely, worse way.

"I won't let it happen. He won't hurt you again, not if there's anything I can do about it." Arthur promised softly and to his surprise Merlin stirred slightly at his voice. Arthur couldn't help but smile as he gently stroked Merlin's cheek. The warlock leaned slightly into his touch and Arthur felt as if he had fallen in love all over again in that single moment.

The sounds of a crowd from outside drew his attention away from Merlin and he took a breath, mentally preparing for the fight that was about to come. He hesitated slightly, leaned down to kiss Merlin's forehead. "I love you." He whispered before he stood. Someone knocked gently at the door and he grabbed his sword.

"Come in." The prince called. It was Percival, Leon, and Lancelot. His grip relaxed and he let go of his sword.

"Are you ready?" Lancelot asked and he nodded. He was ready. Ready for his father's reign of hatred to end.

They left the room together, Percival and Leon remaining behind as planned, and Arthur briefly allowed himself to think about what would happen if he lost. If he did this would be the last time for what was likely to be years before he would see Merlin again. Pushing those thoughts away he focused on what would happen if he won.

He would be the king of Camelot. He would be able to repeal the ban on magic and Merlin would no longer have to hide who he was. The thought of Merlin freely using magic in Camelot, to protect the city, to entertain children in the lower town, to grow crops, to heal people. All of the wonderful things he knew Merlin alone would be able to do to make life better in Camelot, not to mention any other magic users that came. And to be able to witness Merlin finding his power as he had helped Arthur to do... It was worth the risk.


	6. Chapter 6

There was a strange mood in the arena as Arthur entered. A sort of tentative, cautious excitement. Arthur wondered briefly what they had been told but ultimately they didn't matter, not for this fight. Arthur would be willing to fight for them in the future, and would dedicate his life to doing so, but this fight… This one fight was for Merlin alone.

Uther stood on the sand on the arena floor rather than in his usual seat in the stands and Arthur couldn't remember the last time he had seen that happen. His helmet tucked under his arm the prince entered the arena without the usual fanfare, but instantly the crowd went deathly silent. Evidently Uther had not yet told them who he was fighting and while they were sure to have an idea it was one thing to assume and another to have those assumptions confirmed.

"Arthur." Uther greeted apathetically.

"Uther." He replied, just as apathetically. Arthur knew he couldn't afford to get emotional during the fight and was well aware that was one of Uther's few possible advantages.

"There is still time. Will you rescind your challenge?" Uther demanded.

Arthur pulled his helmet free and put it on his head. "It's disgraceful for a king to back down from a challenge he posed, right? Father?" Arthur reminded before he pulled his faceplate down and drew his sword. Uther sighed heavily and removed his cape before donning his own helmet. Uther drew his sword and Geoffrey stood from the crowd.

"All here stand as witnesses to the duel between Uther Pendragon and Arthur Pendragon for the role as monarch of Camelot. To win one must either force the other to yield or kill him." Geoffrey stood long enough to observe the crowd and make sure they understood the rules as much as the combatants did. "Are both fighters ready?" He said.

"Yes." Arthur answered first and Uther followed suit with a touch of hesitance. Arthur smirked from beneath his helmet. "Better stop hesitating, Uther, or this is going to end very quickly." He warned.

Uther stance shifted, falling into a powerful ready position with ease. Arthur took a breath of his own as they began circling. "You may begin." Geoffrey called. They circled each other slowly and each made a few feints that neither fell for. Uther made the first true offensive move, as Arthur expected, and as the metal clashed everything else faded away but the fight.

Arthur was faster and stronger, but Uther had more experience. That also meant more injuries and Arthur kept pushing him onto his bad leg, knowing that he could outlast his father if nothing else. That wasn't to say Uther hadn't gotten a few solid blows of his own in; one hard strike in particular to Arthur's helmet had sent his ears ringing and upset his balance.

Finally they shoved away from one another and took a moment to breath. Arthur had no idea whether the crowd was cheering loud enough to be a dragon or if the stadium was as silent as an empty graveyard. All he could hear was his own heavy breathing. But Uther was panting heavier; clearly the strain of fighting was starting to get to him. Arthur swung his sword, feeling the weight and testing his grip, preparing to begin the second round while he had an advantage.

Uther, as expected, blocked his first few blows and they broke apart once again. Arthur didn't expect him to speak. "I tortured him myself, you know." He said.

Arthur took a moment to breath and push down his rising anger without taking his eyes off Uther; he knew he was being baited, but he also didn't doubt that Uther would do such a thing. But if he let the emotions get to him he would lose. "One more crime in a long list of many, then." Arthur finally replied before he lunged forward.

He kept his strikes fast and put only enough power behind them that Uther would feel each one. He didn't want to waste energy. The last block in particular was sloppy and Arthur was eager to press his advantage. Perhaps a bit too eager as Uther dodged and got in a lucky swipe that cut through a gap in his right arm armor. He was just grateful it wasn't his primary sword arm as they backed off again.

His blood glistened on Uther's otherwise pristine sword and a few drops even fell to the sand. Uther's eyes were locked on Arthur and this time he made an offensive move first. Arthur was forced back again and again until he hit the wall. He gripped his sword with both hands, fighting to keep Uther's sword from cutting him as it came dangerously close to his cheek.

"He kept screaming your name. It was pathetic. Weak." Uther said and this time Arthur couldn't force down his anger.

"Do not call him weak." Arthur growled before he shoved Uther off and jumped away from the wall. He didn't give his father a chance to recover before he slammed into him, reversing their positions from before except Arthur was aiming for his throat. "He is far stronger than you could ever hope to be." He said.

Uther tried to throw him off, but the length of the fight had worn him out. His age and experience could only do so much and Arthur was in his prime. He barely budged. "Yield." Arthur ordered sharply.

Uther hesitated, but he knew well enough when he was beaten. He hated losing, but Arthur had, in one day alone, proven what kind of man he was and as much as Uther feared for the future Arthur would bring with his admiration for magic… There were few men of his caliber and to lose to one of them was not so great of a loss.

Arthur had not backed down in the slightest. The pressure on the sword aimed at his neck was strong and steady. His eyes held no trace of fear and no pity. Finally Uther spoke, loud and clear so the entire arena would hear. "I yield." He declared.

Arthur waited for just a moment, to be sure Uther knew he was beaten like any good fighter would, before he backed off. He did not sheath his sword just yet, not until Uther threw his sword at his son's feet. Arthur picked it up and raised them both into the air. He said nothing, but the crowd cheered. Cries of "long live King Arthur!" filled the arena.

Gregory slowly joined them in the arena, giving the crowd time to celebrate Arthur's victory, before he approached Uther. "Your crown, sire." He requested. Uther waved his hand and a servant boy quickly entered the arena with it, bowing his head as he offered it to them. Gregory took it and the boy bolted off, no doubt to watch from some hiding place near the stands.

Gregory approached Arthur, who had taken off his helmet and given it to Lancelot. Lancelot took Uther's sword from him as well before he backed off. Gregory stepped up to Arthur, who very briefly bowed his head in deference to the elderly man. As if the crowd knew he was about to speak the arena went quiet. "Arthur Pendragon, you have challenged your father for the right to rule as King of Camelot and won. The title is yours. Please, kneel." He requested.

Arthur knelt on one knee, his sword stuck upright in the ground just in front of him and his head bowed. "My prince, you have fought honorably and bravely, and now I ask will you uphold that same honor and bravery in defending Camelot?" Gregory questioned.

"I will." Arthur swore.

"Then, until your official coronation in a few days time, I name you King Regent of Camelot. May your rule be long, peaceful, and prosperous for all people." He said as he placed the crown on Arthur's head. Arthur had caught his emphasis on _all_ people and couldn't help smiling. Somehow it came as no surprise that Gregory had some inclination of what he planned to do.

Arthur stood and faced the arena stands. They cheered loudly, until Arthur raised a hand. It was a surreal moment when that simple gesture silenced everyone in an instant (he couldn't help thinking about how Merlin would pitch a fit if Arthur ever tried such a tactic on him and had to fight a smile). Arthur took a breath then began to speak.

"Despite what you, and I, may have believed my father is not a perfect man. No man is, monarch or otherwise. But as my first act as king I wish to right one of the wrongs my father committed during his reign. I know this does not undo the damage that was done, but I hope it is a starting place for making amends." Arthur looked through the faces in the crowd. They were curious, confused, but overall hopeful. Excited, even, and that gave Arthur hope.

"As of this moment, with you all as my witnesses, I am repealing the ban on magic." He declared. The crowd started raising a noise, questions and concerns were thrown at him, but he continued louder and they quieted to hear what he was saying.

"Certain magical practices, casting spells that involving harming others or putting them under your control to name just two, will still be considered criminal and illegal acts, but they will be punished in accordance to the crime committed. Other acts of magic, those using it to heal or protect or provide for others, will not face any punishment for doing so. Any discrimination made against an individual for being able to cast magic will also be punishable. Any particular grievances or requests for pardons for lost family members should be brought to me in a few days, after the official laws are decided and released." He added.

The arena was deathly silent once again. As if everyone in attendance couldn't quite believe it was really happening or really know how to respond to his, admittedly from their perspective, sudden declaration. Then came a voice from behind him he didn't expect to hear.


	7. Chapter 7

"If I am allowed to speak, I may be able to help put some of the concerns they have to rest."

Arthur turned so quickly he was surprised he didn't hurt his neck and immediately his sword slipped from his fingers. The king didn't even notice as it stuck into the ground dangerously close to his foot. He almost didn't dare to blink as he took in the sight in front of him. Merlin, dressed in trousers, one of Arthur's white tops, and the prince's red cloak. His hair was much shorter than before but certainly not the mess it had been not even an hour ago. He looked stunning, powerful, and very much in his element. Best of all was the warm unchanged smile on his face; the same one he always had for Arthur.

"Merlin." The king whispered and the warlock's smile grew.

"Hello Arthur." He replied softly, though with how quiet the arena was most of those in attendance were sure to have heard him. Arthur couldn't find any words to say as Merlin walked towards him and knelt at his feet.

"Merlin, you don't…" Arthur began but he fell silent at the look from Merlin that said 'let me.' So Arthur let him.

"I, Merlin of Camelot, Emerys of the Druids, and the last Dragonlord, do swear to you, Arthur Pendragon of Camelot, the Once and Future King, my fealty. All that I am is yours, now and always." Merlin looked up only as he spoke the final words and it was near impossible to miss the brilliant gold his eyes became. It _was_ impossible to miss the wave of golden magic that pulsed from his body sweeping across the ground almost faster than Arthur's eyes could follow.

As it covered him Arthur felt that same warmth that he had wearing Merlin's armor, only this time it was so much stronger. It took away all his aches and pain, even healing the cut on his arm from his and Uther's duel. When Arthur opened his eyes he quickly realized he wasn't the only one who had been swept away in the sensation; almost everyone in attendance, even Uther, looked nearly blissful. It filled Arthur with a strange sense of pride that the man capable of such an act would bow to him, of all people.

Arthur quickly looked at Merlin, who was smiling up at him (a smile Arthur returned without hesitation), but now his eyes were streaked with peaks of gold interrupting the blue. Arthur held out his hands and Merlin accepted them without hesitation. Arthur immediately pulled him to his feet. "You don't bow to me." He insisted before he knelt.

Still holding onto the warlock's hands Arthur felt him stiffen as everyone in the arena bowed, as was customary. Merlin shifted and tugged at his hands. "Please, Arthur, this isn't necessary." He insisted softly and Arthur chuckled at how uncomfortable Merlin was with being in the spotlight.

Still, he stood and kissed Merlin's hands reverently. The warlock turned an almost alarming shade of red and Arthur chuckled. "Better get used to being noticed." He warned softly.

"Prat." Merlin muttered fondly, and he couldn't hide the smile threatening to show. They stayed like that for a few seconds longer, each just enjoying being near one another again, before the moment was interrupted by Uther.

"How are you alive?" He snarled towards Merlin.

The warlock looked at Uther and to Arthur's surprise offered him a genuine smile. Even Uther seemed taken aback by the warmth. "Because I live, and would only die, for one man and that man is Arthur." He said. It didn't exactly answer Uther's question but it was worth it to see the previous king's expression as he started to realize how far Merlin would go for him.

Arthur stepped closer to his warlock and took his hand. Having come so close to losing Merlin Arthur was appreciating every moment they got together all the more. Merlin just smiled at his king before he looked back at Uther. Uther straightened up and both of them tensed. Arthur was ready to draw his sword and Merlin's eyes flickered to pure gold as he prepared to cast a spell. The king was certain who would be faster in the event Uther attacked and wasn't ashamed to admit it wouldn't be him.

Before Uther could make a move, or whether he had decided against doing so, the man suddenly slumped unconscious. He was lowered gently to the ground by an invisible force as someone stepped up on the other side of Arthur. "Forgive me, sire, but he was ruining an otherwise beautiful moment." Mordred explained and Arthur gave him a level look as Merlin was fighting giggles beside him. "He's not hurt. Just unconscious." Mordred promised.

Arthur sighed, already feeling a bit too much like a parent supervising children to be comfortable. Though he had to admit Mordred had a point. The druid turned to face him fully and knelt. "I, Mordred of the Druids, in following Emerys' pledge, do swear fealty to you, King Arthur, the Once and Future King. My magic, my body, and my sword are yours." He declared.

"I accept your service. Thank you, Mordred." Arthur responded seriously and the druid stood. He looked proud and shared a look with Merlin. Arthur was sure the two were telepathically communicating and did his best not to feel jealous. He wasn't entirely successful as he couldn't resist the desire to wrap an arm around Merlin and tug the warlock into his side.

Merlin placed a reassuring hand on his chest (that he couldn't feel because of his chest plate: Arthur had never hated an inanimate object so much in his life) and settled against his side. "Easy, Arthur. I'm yours, but I am still recovering and I would prefer not to add new wounds just yet when my last…" He didn't get any further as Arthur scooped him up, making the warlock yelp. "Arthur!?" His cry was an objection, a laugh, and a question in one.

Arthur started walking, ignoring the constant objections from the warlock in his arms. Silently he was recalling that only hours ago he had carried Merlin's burnt body the same way. This time his warlock was much more lively and it made the king silently very happy. Said warlock quickly switched to pouting when he realized that Arthur was paying him no attention. Arthur could hear the knights laughing at their backs and even the people sounded excited as he left the arena behind. It was a good sign of the things to come.


End file.
